Dysphoric Feelings
by Queen of the Highway
Summary: Pre SAW III. Amanda thinks about her decision to take on John's work, and if it's what she really wants...


I sat on my cold bed, scrunching the covers in my hands. I was under a lot of stress, like I always felt right before a game started. My soft brown hair fell over my eyes as I hung my head down, trying to relax. John was eager to see how his final game played out, but I felt different. I didn't want this to be his _final _game, I still needed him. Of course I had every intention of continuing his work; but it was so soon. I knew when he was gone my days would be long and lonely, I wasn't sure if I could stand it. A lot of people had come and gone in my life, but John was the only one that had really cared about me, and vice versa. It was going to hurt when his time came, but I had to stay strong for him, to keep practicing his mission — _our _mission. I ran my fingers through my hair and got up, swallowing the lump in my throat. I went into the washroom and gathered my hair up into a loose ponytail, I couldn't help but stare at the reflection in the mirror.

I had changed a lot, my face wasn't obscured by heavy drug use any longer, and nor was my personality. I was glad for that; there were things that still made me smile, but there were few. I withdrew my gaze from the mirror and returned to the workshop. I had been working on a challenging restraint, I called it the shotgun collar. It was made only for one, it wouldn't be used again; at least that's what I predicted. She wouldn't last... she was weak... like I'd once been. But then, _I_ had succeeded against the odds, why not her? I pushed the unimportant thoughts out of my mind, finishing the final touches on the collar. It was a very sinister-looking thing, but I secretly liked that sort of thing. Was it a secret to John? It didn't matter, I was sure he did too.

I hummed a song I'd heard once before and held my first contraption in front of myself to look it over. Soon I would be making much larger devices, it was unnerving and exciting at the same time. I brought it over to John's bedside for him to see, he gave me a small grin as I entered the room.

"It's done, what do you think?" I asked, turning the collar in my hands for an all around view.

"Good work, have you tested it out?" His dry, weakened voice rang in my ears.

"I would, but the collar might get damaged... but it'll work fine. How are you doing?" I tried to hide my emotions, tried to be strong.

He thought before answering. "I don't know if I'll make it through the night,"

I felt my voice shrink considerably and my throat tighten. "D-don't go,"

"Amanda," he said like I'd heard him say many times before; but not enough. "Don't give in to your emotions, you'll be fine, I believe in you."

I nodded, setting the collar down on the white counter. A few tears managed to break free from my eyes and slide down my cheeks. John's face took on a sad form, but it disappeared as fast as it had came. John was always good at hiding such things, but I didn't think he needed too. I suddenly felt embarrassed and quickly wiped away my tears and turned away from him. I couldn't face him like this, it was just a reminder of how little time we had left together. I wanted so badly to hug him, almost as much as I'd wanted to _not _hug my real father. But how would he react to that? Would he push me away? I faced him again, he had that slightly sad look again. I decided to not care what he thought of it, and bent down to wrap my arms around him and lay my head on his shoulder. He wasn't warm like I thought he'd be, he was abnormally cold. But it was nice, and it got nicer when he placed his hands over my back.

"Please let me take you to the hospital, the game can wait a little longer..." I murmured into his pillow, already knowing the answer; I felt a little guilty.

"You know we can't, I'll be jailed immediately. And the game can't wait, I'm in no condition to be choosy of when they start." He said in a raspy voice.

I whimpered a little, sinking down to my knees and resting my arms over his midsection. I had nothing more to say, and I knew he didn't either. We were so close, but also miles away. I'd only known him for so long, but he really did feel like a Dad — or something like it. It was sad, all we'd ever talked about was traps and such. The only time it wasn't related to those things was last year, before we'd started the nerve gas house game. He was much healthier then, and we were sitting at the kitchen table in the morning. He was reading over the newspapers and we starting talking about some of the articles in it, I can't even remember what it was about now. But sitting there with John, talking so casually there... it was wonderful. That was when I really started to see the great man behind Jigsaw, and how much he meant to me. But those moments rarely happened, and now as we sat here anticipating the start of the last game, we couldn't even talk at all. I rose from my position and sighed, studying the weathered face before me.

"I'm going to miss you," I choked out.

"I will miss you as well," he barely managed to say, starting to cough.

I nodded absently and left the room that already felt like death. That was perhaps the most intense conversation we'd ever had, though we spoke little. I returned to my barren room, lying on my bed once again. I bit my lip unconsciously and hid my head under the pillow. I didn't know how this thought could ever occur in my mind, but I didn't think I was as adamant about this as before. No, I knew it. It was a funny thing, not humorous, of course, but an odd situation. Was my life really better now? Had it been saved? Before John, life was simple; maybe not good, but somehow less painful. Now my days consisted of gruesome things and emotional turmoil... this wasn't what I wanted and I knew it. Sure I loved John, but I'd left many others I _thought _I'd loved before. Why was he so different? He did bad things... but he had good intensions, unlike others I'd been involved with. That's the only reason I was attached, I could break these ties easily though. John was right, I needed to ditch my emotions. I'd start with him. While he sat in his bed, content with the knowledge of a sure successor to his work, I would slip out of the picture once he died and live my life. I cringed, I had these horrible thoughts, but I still did love him. It wouldn't be that easy... nothing was ever easy that was worth it.


End file.
